


Damn Hot

by medea1313



Series: Damned [3]
Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-12
Updated: 2015-05-12
Packaged: 2018-03-30 01:20:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3917905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/medea1313/pseuds/medea1313
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sexy-times tag to my fic "Damned If You Don't." Matt's not allowed to move. Otherwise, not even a little bit of plot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Damn Hot

“Higher,” Matt said. Claire’s fingers obediently slid upward, an eighth of an inch, a quarter, and practically before the jolt of pleasure traveled up her body and into her brain he cried, “There! Stop.”

“Stop?” she repeated incredulously. Her pointer and index fingers were perfectly bracketing her clit, and he wanted her to _stop_?

He chuckled evilly. “Stop moving upward, I meant. You can recommence other activities.” Letting out a relieved breath she immediately began moving her fingers in a circle. “But slowly,” he said and “Fuck!” she said, and he only smiled and slowly, slowly, went her hand.

Claire’s eyes began to drift shut as the pleasure arced through her, until he said, “No, look at me.” Her lashes swept open immediately and she did, taking in the avaricious look on his face and his hooded eyes, the tensed muscles of his shoulders, and the bandage over his bullet wound that thankfully had not been bled through — yet. He was barely propped up against her headboard and she was facing him, legs spread wide, and she had never seen such focused attention from anyone, sighted or not, as he was giving the slow slippery circles of her fingers right now.

“Relax your shoulders,” she said, her first command since they had negotiated this scenario.

“They’re relaxed. I’m relaxed,” he said, in a tone that was pretty much the furthest thing from relaxed she could think of. She shook her head and her hand paused and he made a face that made her giggle and then let out a long sigh, using all that epic self control to bleed the tension out from his neck and shoulders. “There.” No movement at all, that was the deal: she would do whatever he said, as long as he promised not to move a muscle.

“Okay.” She began moving her hand again, keeping her eyes on him now. His expression settled back into lasciviousness.

“Use your other hand to cup your breast. Fingertips only, yes, like that. Same movement, same rhythm. Now pinch your nipple. Harder.”

“Fuuuuck,” Claire moaned as her body trembled in reaction to her own hands carrying out his orders. How could he do this without even touching her?

“Don’t stop on your clit. Use the base of your palm, yes, like that. Now two fingers inside. Push them deeper. Your fingers aren’t long enough. Can’t I just—“

“No, no, oh god Matt,” Claire refused as firmly as she could while she was trembling on the brink of orgasm.

“You could just—“ His arm extended, like somehow holding it away from her body would make it less impactful on his torso.

“Lie still!” Claire yelled, and he obediently dropped his arm to the bed. “Now tell me what the fuck to do instead.”

“Get out your vibrator,” he said. She almost asked him how he knew but he could probably smell it from inside her bedside table. Not that she had used it for months now, since she was usually either sleeping with him or exhausted from work. She had almost forgotten about the damn thing.

She didn’t waste time arguing or explaining, just pulled open the drawer and grabbed it and settled back against the baseboard in record speed. It was rechargeable, black, a classier rabbit design. Not nearly as big as Matt’s now fully-grown erection standing directly in front of her face, but it would do.

“Turn it on,” he said. She put it on the lowest setting. “Hold it against your clit.” The gentle vibrations sent waves of sensation through her and she wanted him so much then. “Now slide it down, get it wet. Good girl. Now put it inside you.”

She couldn’t keep her eyes open anymore. The vibrator snugged against her g-spot and teased her clit at the same time, and though she wanted it to be Matt inside of her, Matt filling her, there was something even sexier about his voice calmly instructing her to turn it up, how to move it, how hard to push it back inside. Her hips bucked up, driving the blunt head of it vibrator deeper inside and she could feel herself about to go over the edge when, “Stop,” he said.

Her eyes flew open.

“Don’t come yet.”

“Matt,” she said, barely able to form the syllable.

“Not yet. Just hold, right there. I can feel how close you are. Just before you orgasm your clitoris actually contracts, as if it’s too much, as if you’re afraid even though you want it so much. You have to go with it, Claire. You have to push harder and not let up when the contractions in your cunt start. Otherwise you miss the second half of the orgasm.”

“OH MY GOD MATT.” Claire’s voice was barely human, everything in her focused on the strain of trembling at the high edge of pleasure.

He smiled and said, “Okay. Now.”

She shoved the vibrator hard against her clit and screamed as she hurtled over the edge, her whole body shaking with the force of what he had done to her. As always, Matt knew just it became too much and he softly coaxed her back to him, to turn off the vibrator and set it aside and open her eyes. If she didn’t know better, she would think he could see her at this moment: his eyes were so soft and steady on her face, so triumphant and sweet and self-satisfied and loving.

“I really didn’t think you would be able to do that from all the way over there,” she said.

His lips twisted bittersweetly. “I prefer other ways to do it, but that was pretty damn hot.”

Her eyes drifted down to his poor, unsatisfied erection. “I’m going to try something,” she said. “But you have to promise not to move. Really promise. I do not want you tearing those stitches.”

She didn’t think he could sense the direction of her gaze, but he must have guessed because he said, “I have truly excellent muscle control,” and smiled his sweetest smile. She knew she shouldn’t do this. As a nurse, she would be pissed if any of her patients were this stupid. But she was not exactly known for her self-control around this man, and he’d had a bad couple days, and she wanted him to feel as good as she felt.

Carefully she crawled up the bed and positioned herself beside him. She could hear his breath shorten now, or maybe it had already been heavy from what they had just done, from making her come. She pulled her hair over her shoulder so it wouldn’t get in the way and bent to test the waters. At first she just breathed on the head of his cock, watching carefully to see if his groin or abdominal muscles jumped. Nothing. He did draw in a deep, steadying breath and said her name in a tone that could be interpreted as pleading. She smiled and licked up the length of him, still watching. “You do have good muscle control,” she noted, impressed.

“Told you.” Matt’s voice was strained now and she thought wickedly about giving him a taste of his own medicine, _slowly_ , but then the longer she dragged this on the more likely he was to break and do something stupid that would tear his stitches, so she should probably not tease him too much.

With that in mind she bent her head and slowly took his penis into her mouth. He was all silk and steel and she swirled her tongue around the head of his cock to hear him cry out before taking him all the way into her throat. One hand settled on the uninjured side of his chest, alert for tensing, but he kept his word and managed to keep completely still even as she suckled him, moving up and down his length until he hit the back of her throat and her eyes filled with tears and he gasped her name. She kept going. The truth was he so rarely ceded this kind of control to her, so rarely let her give pleasure rather than receive it, and she loved it when it happened. The truth was she loved the taste of him, salty and bitter and sweet, like Matt himself. “Claire, I’m going to—please, I can’t—“ he cried and she felt him tense after all, his hips lifting to thrust into her mouth and she pressed her hand into his chest to hold him as still as possible as her mouth filled with his seed and her throat and eyes burned and she took him into her.

Her hand ran over him as he lay there panting, checking for anything injured or out of place, and then she lifted her head and flipped her hair out of her eyes and smiled at him. “I knew you couldn’t do it,” she said.

“I’m sorry,” he said, but the look in his eyes belied his words.

“You’ll be sorry if you split your stitches, because if you did I am never falling for that muscle control line again,” Claire teased. She pushed herself up and he reached out to grab her arm, pull her down so he could kiss her without moving anything else. She relaxed against him, returning the kiss wholeheartedly. He wiped her face gently with his fingers and murmured, “Thank you. For everything.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she said and bent to check his stitches.


End file.
